SWR: The Broken and the Lost
by Startouch-32
Summary: Starts as an alternative storyline for Family Reunion/Farewell, but continues after the epilogue with Sabine and Ahsoka's search for Ezra Bridger. Also I have very little romantic experience, and this is an Ezrabine fanfiction, so... things may get overly fluffy. This is my first big project, so thats a thing.
1. Chapter 1

"Mom? Dad?"

Ezra's voice echoed faintly throughout the _Ghost_ , making its way down the central corridor of the freighter, and penetrating the doors to Sabine's cabin. Sabine currently sat on her bunk, cleaning one of her blaster pistols, but stopped when she heard Ezra speak to listen. It was probably rude to be eavesdropping, but in fairness he wasn't exactly being quiet. Judging from the direction his voice was coming from, Sabine guessed Ezra was in the common room. Or maybe the dorsal turret.

"I know what I have to do now, but I'm afraid; not for me, but for my friends. They've fought so hard, and given so much, and helped me to understand why you stood up to the Empire, and made the sacrifices you did," Ezra continued. "I wish you could meet them; my new family. I guess, in some way, you will be with us today, when we finish what you started. I want you to know that everything I've done and will do began with you."

Sabine felt a pang of sympathy constrict her heart. Ezra's parents had always been a... difficult subject for him. It'd been about a year since Ezra had learned that his parents had died in prison, but their absence from his childhood had always been a source of pain for him. Sabine subconsciously grimaced; she'd only recently made amends with her clan and rescued her father, but hearing Ezra's pain return brought Sabine back to the sleepless nights, the aching loneliness that had clawed at her heart like a hungry loth-cat in the first few weeks after escaping the Imperial Academy.

"Ezra? They're bringing her up."

Hera's voice startled Sabine as much as it must've startled Ezra. She'd been so focused on listening to Ezra that she hadn't heard Hera approach. She heard footsteps clamber down the ladder to the dorsal turret, the _swish_ of automatic doors opening and closing, and then two pairs of footsteps headed towards the cockpit.

They're bringing Pryce up. Sabine still found herself surprised that the Empire's attack on the mountain city in which the rebels hid had failed in the end; that Ryder's gambit had also allowed the rebels to capture Pryce. There had been a few casualties, but it was a miracle that there hadn't been more. Sabine almost thanked the Force for keeping her family safe.

But then she remembered Kanan, and Sabine's words of thankfulness died out like a suffocated fire.

Sabine's grip tightened on her pistol, as the pain in her chest only grew. Kanan, the closest person to a father for her and Ezra, a brother for Zeb, the _love of Hera's life,_ was dead. Obviously, everyone was still grieving. Hera kept a strong face as always, but it didn't take much to bring out the heartbroken woman hidden behind the General. Chopper was... Chopper, but Sabine knew that the droid did care, and was doing everything in his power to help Hera especially. Zeb was kind of taking care of everyone, like the big brother he was. Sabine tried to ignore the sadness that gutted her like a Rokarian dirt-fish from the inside, tried to tell herself that she'd spent her tears on the ride back from the fuel depot, and yet she'd cried herself to sleep more than once these past few nights. Surprisingly, Ezra seemed the least affected out of all of them, which was equally concerning. The first day after Kanan's sacrifice, Ezra had seemed lost, adrift like stardust expelled from a supernova's death. But the next day he was back at it, trying to save the Jedi Temple and Lothal.

 _I'll talk to him about that,_ Sabine thought, exiting her cabin and holstering her pistol. _In the meantime, let's see what crazy plan Ezra has to free Lothal._

_

It was possibly the worst plan Sabine had ever heard in her life, and Sabine had been involved in a _lot_ of bad plans.

"So we're voluntarily being captured by the Empire, taking over the _Imperial Complex,_ and trapping every Imperial on Lothal inside the Dome _with us,"_ Sabine summarized.

She stood in a circle alongside Hera, Zeb, Ezra, Chopper, Kallus, Ryder, Vizago, Mart, Hondo and his Ugnaught friend, having reviewed their plan. The group stood on a flat surface of stone partially encircled by the circular rock structures that were everywhere on Lothal. The platform lead out onto the grassy plains of Lothal on one side, and down a narrow pathway to the campsite hewn into the mountains on the other, where Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor were guarding Pryce. The _Ghost_ , two Imperial gunships, and various crates of supplies formed a rough circle encompassing the group.

"That about sums it up, yeah. We'll launch the Dome to a high altitude over the ocean, and rig the reactor to explode," Ezra confirmed calmly, as if not comprehending how insane the plan was.

"It's a good plan Ezra, but I just don't know if it's a feasible one," Hera said.

"I'm with General Syndulla. The Imperial Complex is the most heavily-guarded Imperial installation on Lothal, and initiating Protocol 13 will call back all Imperial forces to the Dome," Kallus added. "It's a good plan in principle, but practically impossible in execution."

"We can say that it's a drill," Mart suggested.

"That might buy us a little more time, but it won't be long before they realize that something's up," Ketsu responded.

"Well, what if we used a high ranking officer, higher than Pryce? The Imps won't question someone like that, right?" Zeb asked.

 _That could work,_ Sabine realized.

Several heads turned to look at Zeb with mixtures of surprise and curiosity on their faces.

"That would work," Ryder started, "if there were any other higher-ups on Lothal. But with Thrawn gone, Pryce is the most powerful Imperial on the planet. No one else short of an Admiral could execute Protocol 13 without being challenged."

Ezra had that mischievous, goofy grin plastered on his face. The one that usually meant he had a crazy idea. Sabine couldn't help but smile; this was going to be good.

"I may know how to solve that problem," he started. "But in the meantime, let's keep this part of the plan under wraps from Pryce until we're in the Dome. The less she knows, the less she can do to stop us."

"I'll fill in the clones," Kallus said, exiting the circle.

"Alright. Ezra and Sabine will disguise as stormtroopers, along with Rex and Kallus. Hondo, Melch, Zeb, Ketsu, Ryder, and Gregor will pose as prisoners. Chopper and I will fly the gunships, while Wolffe, Vizago, and Mart stay here with the _Ghost_ to pick us up," Hera delegated, her voice commanding and strong.

"Actually Hera, I think it may be best for you to stay here, and Mart or Wolffe can come with us," Ezra replied.

Sabine shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. _What?_

"And why is that?" Hera asked defensively, looking to Ezra with a perplexed expression.

"You're the best pilot among us, and we'll need a good pilot to pick us up for this to work. Besides, Wolffe's better on the ground than in the air."

Hera's suspicious expression faded from all but her eyes as she spoke. "Alright, I'll stay here with Mart and Vizago, and Wolffe can pose as another stormtrooper. Sabine can fly the gunship."

"Thank you," Ezra responded, before turning to the whole group. "You all know what you have to do. Gear up, get anything you need for the mission, and May the Force be with us."

The circle split of in various directions: Hera, Mart, and Vizago headed towards the _Ghost_ , while Ketsu, Zeb, Ryder, Hondo, and Melch returned to the mountain city to prepare. Ezra remained stationary, his eyes focused intensely on the stone at his feet.

"Ezra?" Sabine spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder, "you okay?"

Ezra looked up, almost meeting Sabine's gaze, and worry clutched Sabine's heart. His eyes were filled with burden, as if he'd just seen someone die.

"What's wrong?" Sabine asked, more gently. She stepped over to face him directly.

When Ezra finally spoke, his voice was careful, almost afraid, as if carefully choosing his words.

"I know I can always count on you." It was almost a question, as if trying to confirm something he didn't quite know.

 _Of course. Without question._ Sabine wanted to say it with determination, to banish whatever doubts Ezra was apparently having. But she stopped. In all of the time that Sabine had known Ezra, he'd never sounded so uncertain. Almost every word that came from his mouth was spoken with conviction; without any of the doubt that currently plagued him. If whatever was on Ezra's mind was making doubt something that he'd known for years, then it was serious.

"Alright, what are you up too?" Sabine asked, her voice sounding more demanding than she intended.

Ezra shook his head, failing miserably to assuage Sabine's concerns. "We should suit up. Gregor found some intact Scout trooper armor. I'll meet you at the camp in a sec." Ezra's voice was completely devoid of the aloofness that Sabine associated with him.

"Ezra please." Sabine's free hand found Ezra's shoulder. "You can tell me. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Ezra met Sabine's eyes, heartbreak clear on his face. He wanted to tell her. Sabine could tell; Ezra desperately wanted to tell Sabine, about more than just whatever was on his mind. His lips parted slightly, and Sabine couldn't help but hold her breath.

"I need to talk to Mart." His voice was barely a whisper. A choked, broken whisper. Ezra freed himself from Sabine's arms, staring at the ground again, and briskly walked over to where Mart stood by the _Ghost_.

Sabine wanted to run after him. To stop him, help him, hug him, anything that would get rid of this pain that was clearly crushing Ezra. But she stopped again. Ezra was counting on Sabine, for more than she knew, and Sabine didn't want to give him reason to question that any more. So Sabine sighed heavily and started towards the mountain city, ignoring the weight of a planet that was crushing her chest.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry this one took a while to post. I had kind of an... interesting week. But anyways, enjoy.

Ezra watched the murky, polluted clouds of Lothal drift beneath him, as the Imperial gunship soared towards the dome.

"We're approaching the dome," Sabine said through Ezra's comlink. To his right, Kallus handed Pryce a comlink to transmit the clearance codes. Ezra felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. He had made his choice, and knew where his path was going to take him. But no matter how much he'd meditated in hopes of gleaning any insights on the rapidly-approaching future, Ezra did not know what was going to happen to his family, and that scared him. He'd made the mistake too many times before of focusing on the end goal of a mission, without stopping to consider who and what were sacrificed. That kind of thinking had led him down a dark path, one that Ezra did not want to venture down again, for both his own sake and that of his friends.

Regardless, Ezra couldn't help but wonder if this calm sense of certainty was how Kanan felt before he'd died. He'd been so peaceful, even at the end when he fought death itself to save those he loved. Ezra needed only blink to see Kanan silhouetted against the fire, to hear Hera all but shriek his name, the numbing, empty _cold_ left in Ezra's heart when the fire consumed his master; his father by all but blood _._

 _Breathe. Try to stay focused._

Ezra drew in a shuddering breath, momentarily comforted by his mentor's words. He would need to be at his best in order for his plan to work. The faceplate of his helmet lowered into place, as the gunships descended on the landing platforms. _Let's do this._

"Executive code 6-2-7-3-1-1," Pryce spoke into the comlink. The reply came not only through the device, but broadcasted from the intercoms of both gunships.

"Codes authorized, Governor, you're free to land. Security will take the prisoners on the platform," an officer's voice replied.

Ezra nodded; he'd known that they'd be admitted. The gunships set down on the platform, and the rebels disembarked. Ezra stepped out with a pistol drawn, followed by Pryce and Kallus (the latter disguised in stormtrooper armor). Zeb and Ryder came after, with a disguised Wolffe holding them at the end of a blaster. Rex, Melch, Hondo, Gregor, and Ketsu stepped out from the other gunship. A trio of stormtroopers emerged from a set of blast doors at the opposite end of the platform. Crates of supplies, as well as a few other troopers, flanked the doors on either side.

"We'll take them from here," the middle stormtrooper stated, a lieutenant judging from the orange shoulder pauldron.

"They're all yours," Ezra replied, gesturing with his pistol. Zeb growled behind him, and Ezra couldn't help but smile beneath his helmet. _This is where the fun begins._

"Hey! Look out!" The troopers drew their blasters on Zeb, but not before he'd barreled past Ezra with a snarl. He leapt over the stormtroopers and dashed towards the blast doors.

"Stop him!" Ezra shouted at the stormtroopers, who immediately turned away from him to shoot Zeb. His lightsaber snapped to life with a hiss, thrumming in his hands, and Ezra swiftly cut the stormtroopers blasters in half before throwing them in all directions with the Force. Behind him, the rebels scrambled for cover, guarding their heads and grabbing fallen blasters as the remaining stormtroopers opened fire. The ozone-like smell of blaster discharge was mostly filtered by Ezra's helmet, but assaulted his nostrils anyway, intermingling with the chemical smell that had only become more pronounced on Lothal since the full occupation.

As he blocked shots, Ezra watched Zeb leap into the closing blast doors, bracing them open long enough for Ketsu and Gregor to dive inside. Meanwhile, Sabine emerged from the gunship cockpit with her twin blaster pistols blazing and Mandalorian armor gleaming, Chopper not far behind. Soon, the last of the stormtroopers were down, and the rebels advanced on the blast door. Worry seeped into Ezra's mind; this was where his foresights became unclear. He had no idea if Ketsu, Zeb, and Gregor had leapt into a squadron of Imperial reinforcements, in which case they'd have to blow open the blast door. He knew of a few things that would almost certainly transpire as he'd foreseen, but not enough.

The blast doors slid open, and Ezra relaxed just a little. _I can trust the Force, but I can also trust my friends. They sure as hell are trusting me._

"Hey, purple guy! Get in position!" Hondo bellowed.

Zeb's annoyance was amusingly obvious on his face, but Ezra opted not to poke the rancor. Zeb trudged back onto the landing platform with Hondo and Melch, while the rest dashed inside. The not-quite filtered stench of Lothal's polluted air became replaced by the stale, recirculated air that was synonymous with the Empire. Ezra was well acquainted with it, considering how many times he ended up in the cooling ducts of Star Destroyers. The interior of the dome, even on these higher levels, was almost identical to those of every other Imperial cruiser or installation: cold, boring, somewhat claustrophobic, and there were no stairs. The group split up to take two of the turbolifts up to the Command Center, which also overlooked the landing platform they'd come from. The lifts opened into a corridor identical to the one a floor below it, save for a path leading to their destination. Sabine reaches the door to the Command Center first, and quickly started inputting commands into the control panel adjacent to it.

"Ezra, we are in position," Hondo's jovial voice came through Ezra's comlink.

"Sabine?" Ezra urged the Mandalorian, anxiety bleeding into his voice. Whatever calm he'd felt on the gunship was gone; they were in uncharted territory for a while.

"Okay," Sabine replied with a nod.

"Hondo go!" Ezra commanded through his comlink. The group waited for the sounds of laser bolts hitting blaster-proof glass. They didn't have to wait more than ten seconds.

"That's our cue!" Ezra declared, drawing his lightsaber. The door hissed open, and the rebels charged into the Command Center. All of the officers inside had their blasters pointed at the Ugnaught plastered against the window outside. Carbon scoring pockmarked the blaster-proof glass between Melch and the Imperials.

Ezra couldn't believe that part had worked. He leapt atop a console, then from there to the farthest officer. The green blade of Ezra's lightsaber slashed through the officer's pistol, then rested threateningly close to his neck. Behind him, Ketsu and the clones had the remaining officers held at blasterpoint on their knees. Sabine and Kallus were already working at consoles in the back of the room.

"Rex, lock them in the storage bin," Ezra ordered, escorting the officer he'd disarmed to the others.

"Yes sir, commander," Rex replied dutifully, removing his helmet. He, Gregor, Wolffe, and Ketsu led the officers away.

 _Commander._ The last time Ezra had been a commander, he'd lost the _Phantom_ and nearly gotten his team killed. Ezra would die before he'd let that happen again, but doubt continued to fester within him like rot slowly weakening a trees roots. Memories flashed before Ezra's eyes; his vision within the Jedi temple in which the Ghost crew had been slaughtered by the Inquisitor, seeing Zeb on his knees before Kallus, seeing Tarkintown burned to nothing but dust and ashes, seeing Sabine almost shot by Gar Saxon,

Feeling Kanan disappear as the fires consumed him.

 _Stop. Stop stop stop stop._ Ezra didn't know how long he'd been lost in thought, but he slowly became aware of the others explaining the plan to Pryce. _Focus. For their sakes._

"We'll utilize Protocol 13. I assume you know what that is?" Kallus said to Pryce.

"The Empire's new order, for the immediate recall of all personnel to the base for a full evacuation," Pryce recited, with all the enthusiasm of a protocol droid. "It won't work."

"Once they're all inside, we'll launch, and it'll be goodbye to the Empire," Ryder concluded, ignoring Pryce.

" _Spectre 5_ to _Spectre 2_. We're in, and we've taken the dome," Sabine spoke into her comlink.

"Good work. We'll await your signal for a pickup," Hera responded to Sabine, then deactivated her comlink. She stood at the edge of the boarding ramp of the _Ghost_ , with Vizago and Mart moving a crate of supplies nearby. Things seemed to be going according to the plan, which both comforted and worried Hera. Furthermore, there were still many things that could go wrong, and Hera had recently found her faith in miracles to be dwindling. Looking back, the crew had survived on miracles on more occasions than they should have. Kanan had called it the Will of the Force, but that faith hadn't saved him.

Hera grimaced, unconsciously touching her left hand to her opposite shoulder. The feeling of his presence with her that night, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder, was something she would never forget.

 _Stay focused. Now's not the time to grieve._

"I forgot to tell you guys; Ezra gave us a special mission," Mart said.

 _Oh no._

Instantly, whatever semblance of calm Hera had been grasping for plummeted faster than a crippled starfighter caught in the gravity of a star cluster. Her lekku twitched in response to her worry. She didn't know what Ezra was planning, but the fact alone that he'd kept it secret did not bode well at all. Maybe it was Hera's maternal instincts, maybe it was her increased concerns for the safety of her crew since Kanan's death, but regardless she became very worried, very quickly.

"What are you talking about?" Vizago questioned, giving Mart a perplexed look. His eyes flicked towards something past Hera, widening in fear. "Watch out!"

A small, grey shape launched between Hera and Mart, tackling Vizago to the ground. Hera's pistol was drawn in seconds, but the creature was moving too quickly to get in a shot. It leapt off Vizago as his head bashed against stone, wheeling around briefly. It had pale, glassy eyes, stony grey skin, a beast-like stance.

This was the thing. The one that had chased Hera, Mart, and Chopper through the streets of Lothal on the night of the attack. The one that Kanan apparently hadn't killed when it tried to stop their escape from the dome.

It lunged at Mart, kicking him off his feet and into a crate. Hera fired once, twice, but the creature managed to evade both shots while attacking the boy. Then it turned towards her, and she fear jab at her heart.

Hera only had the chance to fire once more before her pistol had been kicked from her hands. She quickly brought her fists up to guard her head, staggering her feet just as her father had taught her since she could walk. The creature swung a clawed hand towards Hera's face, which she sidestepped. The creature used the momentum of the swing to propel a spinning kick, which Hera barely managed to evade once more. A sharp uppercut caught her jaw, jarring her teeth together and sending her staggering. Stars spun lazily in her peripheral vision like fireflies, as she struggled to get steady. A flash of grey barely gave Hera enough warning to duck under a hook punch. Her heart pounded heavily against her chest, and her head still spun like a damaged TIE-fighter spiraling out of control.

She grabbed what she assumed was the creatures shoulder, pulling it downwards as she kicked her knee up to meet its gut. She then shoved him back while he was dazed, scooping up her pistol and taking aim. The creature shook its head to regain its senses, giving Hera the opening she'd been waiting for. She fired, and the blaster bolt left a sizzling crater in the creatures shoulder. It snarled in pain, staggering back slightly and holding its hands up between itself and her. Hera held her pistol with both hands to keep the adrenaline in her veins from making her hands shake.

"On your knees. Now!" She yelled angrily.

Hera was well acquainted with anger. She'd spent a lot of her life angry; at the Empire for existing, at her father for... a lot of things, and even herself for not being able to do more to fight the Empire. And yet the anger she felt toward this creature was different. It was a heat rising in her chest, making her head feel light and her hands steady. She felt as if she were being boiled in her own skin, and yet it brought no more than a little discomfort. Rather, her focus was heightened, fixated on the pitiful, groveling, murderous creature before her.

Slowly it sank down onto one knee, then the other, guarding its head with crossed arms. It's finger tapped a device on its forearm, and a malicious glint replaced the creatures former visage of fear. Hera heard a slight _beep_ at her feet. She glanced down, to see a small, blinking device planted on the ground behind her. The creature scurried to its feet while she was distracted, bounding out of range in seconds.

 _Blast it!_ Hera sprinted away from the device, her anger dissolving into fear and humiliation.

 _Boom!_

First, a blast of heat and sheer force threw Hera off her feet, knocking the pistol from her hands. Second, her eardrums seemed to implode from the combined shockwave and sound of the explosion, rattling her skull. Third, the ground tumbled up to meet her as she fell, bashing her head and leaving her dazed on the ground. Hera didn't know how long she lay on the ground, willing her head to stop spinning, but when she did she found the creature standing over her, with her own pistol pointed at her forehead. She could only glare for a second, before the pressure building between her temples forced her to collapse. Despite the ringing in her ears, Hera could make out the sound of feral, canine growling and blaster fire before she blacked out.

"Ezra. We're ready," Sabine said, briefly turning away from the console she stood at alongside Chopper. No squadrons of stormtroopers had tried to break into the Command Center, and Hera was standing by; the plan was working.

"Kallus, you're up," Ezra said to Kallus, who stood at the central communications terminal by the windows. The terminal was connected to every Imperial communications tower across Lothal, and could broadcast on just about any Imperial frequency. Kallus opened a channel, sounding like any other Imperial with his clipped accent.

"Attention all personnel. Protocol 13 is now in effect. Report to your access stations immediately. I repeat, Protocol 13 is in effect."

Kallus's voice echoed through the door to the Command Center from speakers throughout the complex. It was also being transmitted from every walker, transport, and comlink on Lothal.

"Hangar 2-7 to Command, please confirm lockdown order," an Imperial voice responded over the transmission, sounding only slightly different from Kallus.

"Command Center to all units; the order is confirmed." Kallus made himself sound vaguely annoyed in his response.

"This is highly irregular. Please repeat sector authorization."

Ezra had been worried that this would happen, but hopefully the contingency he and Ryder had come up with should be enough.

"Ryder get ready," he said to the former Governor, gesturing towards the communications terminal.

"Repeat, the order is confirmed," Kallus declared again, as Ryder tapped into the channel.

"This is ISB Colonel Yularen. I am executing override code _Base-Gamma-Zero._ " Ryder too had adopted the clipped accent of an Imperial, and was doing a remarkable impersonation of the Colonel. Ezra's face hardened with determined hope. If this failed, then their entire plan was a bust.

"Imperial security," the officer mused. "I was unaware ISB was involved."

Ryder briefly turned to Ezra, before replying slowly, "That is the _point_ of this exercise."

"Then, this is a drill?"

"Is it? And do you always question the orders of a superior officer?" Ryder's tone was that of an exasperated parent explaining something to a child.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, holding their breath. Ryder and Kallus had done everything they could; now they could only hope that the officer, along with every other Imperial on Lothal, would not become suspicious. It was moments like these that Ezra really missed the reassuring pressure of Kanan's hand on his shoulder. Yet all he felt was the awkward, tight weight of his Scout trooper armor.

"Proceeding with Protocol 13 immediately," the officer stammered, and the transmission ended.

Ezra released the the breath that he'd only sort of realized he'd been holding. Everyone in the room seemed to relax a little more.

 _Trust the Force. Trust my friends._

"Sounds like they bought it, Colonel," Ezra said confidently to Ryder. "Nice work."

Screens began to fill with reports from the barracks and hangar bays throughout the dome as they filled with stormtroopers, transports, walkers, TIE-fighters, and gunships. These were followed by confirmations that blast doors and vents were sealing off the dome in preparation for launch. Sabine, Ketsu, and Chopper were running the final pre-launch diagnostics and preparing to start the self-destruct sequence. Kallus and Ryder continued to monitor the Protocol 13 procedures. The clones were watching security footage as an extra precaution.

Ezra felt a chill run down his spine, making him shiver slightly. Whenever he'd had that feeling in the past, it had been a sign of bad things to come. _This isn't over. Something's coming._

"All units have returned to their duty stations, and the dome is now secure," Kallus reported.

 _We can't back down just because we're afraid. That's when we have to stand the tallest._

Ezra took a deep breath, meeting Sabine's gaze momentarily. She nodded, a look of reassurance set on her face. Ezra's first thought was; _She's noticed me worrying,_ then, _Of course she did._ He subtly nodded back with a faint smile.

"Kallus, Ketsu, Rex; start the launch cycle. Sabine; set the self-destruct," he ordered, trying to make himself feel confident by sounding confident.

"We do have a way off this thing _before_ it explodes... right!?" Hondo asked anxiously.

"Nah, we'll just sit here and go out with a bang," Gregor joked. As always, his eyes glinted with frightening mischief. "Get it, a _bang?"_

"Well, since you two clearly didn't listen during the briefing; the _Ghost_ is going to pick us up," Sabine responded annoyedly. Ezra didn't have to look to know that she was rolling her eyes.

"Alright, let's get airborne already," Zeb cut in, ending the banter.

Ezra felt concern rush through his senses again, but this time it wasn't his. A second later, Sabine hurriedly joined him, Kallus, and Ryder at the consoles by the window to initiate the launch cycle.

"According to the diagnostics, these thrusters haven't been fired in years; it's going to take time to prime them," she explained. Ezra watched as her hands danced across the controls, until a broad shadow shrouded them. As the windows darkened, Ezra felt it again: the _cold._ He looked up and realized why.

"You're too late," Pryce said triumphantly, with a wicked grin on her face.

A Star Destroyer had entered the airspace just above the dome, seeming to dwarf the entire complex with its wide, arrowhead-shaped hull. Emblazoned on its underside was a monstrous design: a creature with many spindly legs and many glaring eyes, and two tentacle-like protuberances reaching up with fanged jaws.

"It's Thrawn," Kallus realized.

"I'm shutting down the launch cycle," Sabine said, setting upon the controls again.

"No! We can't just sit here!" Ketsu cried.

"Thrawn's holding position right above us. If we launch, we'll crash into his ship, and the debris will destroy the city," Ezra deduced. By placing his own ship in harm's way, Thrawn had also put the rebels in a checkmate.

"Karabast," Zeb groaned, "we're trapped."

Ezra stopped to think. He'd seen only a few endings in which Thrawn had returned, and almost none of them ended well. The fact that the rebels had both the Imperial forces and the dome under their control have them the upper hand though. Thrawn wouldn't dare destroy the dome with so many Imperials inside.

 _We can use them as leverage. Hostages._

"Chopper, put me through," Ezra ordered as he stepped up to the communications terminal. Chopper gave a mechanical warble in response, plugging into the droid interface at the back of the room.

A life-size hologram of Thrawn glowed to life over the terminal, staring at Ezra with his cold, red eyes. Ezra ignored the shudder that ran down his spine, putting as much steel as he could into his voice.

"Governor Pryce is our prisoner, and we have complete control of the Imperial Dome; with every trooper, pilot, and officer trapped inside," Ezra spoke triumphantly. "You've failed, Thrawn. Leave Lothal and we might let your troops out before we blow the dome to pieces."

Thrawn continued to stare at Ezra, his face emotionless. "Are you quite finished?" He asked with contempt.

Ezra hadn't been sure what sort of response to expect, but this was not it. His emotions must not have been well concealed, for Thrawn continued;

"If you truly wish to save Lothal, Commander Bridger, the only term I'll accept is your immediate and unconditional surrender."

"Why would I surrender when I hold your entire army prisoner?"

"No, you've simply moved my assets to a safe position, so I can bombard the citizens of your home without incurring Imperial casualties."

 _Oh no. Nonononononono._

Ezra's mind went blank with fear. The plan was falling to pieces. He couldn't think; he only stared at the image of Grand Admiral Thrawn in horror.

"Rex! Raise the planetary shields!" Sabine yelled, hazel eyes wide with terror.

"The generators just went offline!" Rex gasped. On the wall to Ezra's right was a large display showing the primary systems and schematics of the dome. The shield generators blinked red.

"Someone's engaged the manual override on the power terminals!" Sabine reported urgently.

"Your shield generator is under my control. Just so you understand that my intentions are genuine, I will now demonstrate my power." Thrawn turned towards someone outside the holographic projection, and said, "Open fire."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Again, I apologize for the inconsistent and infrequent updates. It took me a while to figure out how this chapter would play out, but at this point I'm a solid 70% satisfied, so that's nice. Anyway, enjoy, and hopefully I'll have another chapter out within the century.

 _Is this what happened all this years ago on Mandalore?_ Sabine wondered as she watched Thrawn's Star Destroyers rain death upon Lothal. _Is this how worlds are destroyed?_ Green beams of plasma shot from turbolaser emplacements along the sides of the massive starships, streaking down to destroy the city below. From her angle at the back of the room, she couldn't see any of the city, but it didn't take long for plumes of smoke to rise up like ghosts clawing desperately at the sky. But she could hear the screams, even from the Command Center at the top of the dome. Haunting, terrified screams of pain, and death, and sorrow. Then surveillance footage appeared where Thrawn's projection previously stood, and Sabine could see the innocent people running, screaming, bleeding, dying. As both a Mandalorian and a rebel, she was no stranger to violence nor death. But this... _massacre_ was without honor nor purpose. Only cruelty.

"Enough! I surrender!" Ezra's voice was pleading, begging, desperate. Broken.

Thrawn's projection nodded, and the Star Destroyers ceased fire. The screams subsided, but columns of smoke continued to rise. The surveillance cameras showed many burning houses, many more reduced to dust and rubble, and citizens of all ages and species cowering in terror. A little Rodian boy cried by his father's corpse. Two figures held each other and wept before their burning home. An Aqualish and a Twi'lek pulled a chunk of sandstone off the inert body of another, unidentifiable figure.

"I await your arrival, and make no mistake; come alone. If you attempt any _heroics_ , I will resume the bombardment and destroy your city, and then your friends," Thrawn threatened, and his hologram disappeared.

The room was silent for a moment. Sabine could see the uncertainty on everyone's faces. Zeb looked shocked and distant, and it occurred to her that seeing Lothal like this could bring back some painful memories of Lasan for him. Rex seemed to already be formulating a plan in his head, and Ryder just looked lost. Kallus and some of the others were watching Ezra for some sort of cue, and Sabine did the same. She didn't need the Force to feel the emotions radiating off of him like solar flares, as he watched his people suffer. Empathy for the young man hit her harder than she'd expected. The Empire had destroyed her people and her home once, and now they were doing the same to Ezra. Out of the corner of her eye, Sabine saw him give a small nod to Kallus, then to Chopper. The astromech turned around and plugged into the console at the back of the room.

"We have a few minutes before Thrawn becomes suspicious. We need a plan to reach the shield generators," Kallus said a little too quickly, walking briskly to the primary schematic of the dome on the far wall. The others crowded around the wall display to listen to him, but Sabine did not, and neither did Ezra. He had that conflicted, thoughtful look on his face again. Sabine heard the ratcheting sound of Chopper's interface arm rotating stop, and Ezra looked up to the ceiling. She followed his gaze, and her heart fell to see that a cooling duct had opened. Immediately, she knew what Ezra was going to do.

 _Nononono not again,_ she thought. Slowly, she approached him so as not to alert the others, and he stepped down to meet her.

"Ezra," Sabine said quietly, "you don't have to do this alone." She was tempted to put her hands on his shoulders, but decided against it. _Too obvious. Don't want to attract attention,_ Sabine told herself.

"Yes I do. You heard Thrawn; if I don't go alone, he'll kill you all," Ezra responded. He seemed determined, but in the way that a wearied soldier is determined to die. Resigned to an inevitable fate.

Sabine sighed, lowering her eyes briefly. Emotions she wasn't prepared to face were boiling inside her like an explosive about to go off, and for once she had no idea how to disarm them. Kallus's voice faded into a dull, incomprehensible murmur in the back of Sabine's head, and time itself seemed to have slowed, just for this moment.

"Please, Ezra," Sabine continued, looking into his deep blue eyes again, "we can do this together. We'll find another way."

Ezra smiled sadly. He reached up to brush a strand of black and purple hair out of her face, his hand lightly brushing her face.

 _Okay Ezra I'm kind of trying to not have an emotional breakdown, and that's not helping._

He reached down to his belt and unclipped his lightsaber. Ezra looked at it pensively, before offering it to her. Sabine's eyes locked on the device in his hands. Her mind faltered and stopped functioning like Chopper when she'd hit him with a droid popper.

"A Jedi's lightsaber is a lot of things, but Kanan once told me that this weapon was my life. And I trust you with it more than anyone." A faint smile crossed Ezra's face as he spoke. "Besides, I don't want some buckethead to take it."

"Ezra..." Sabine didn't know what to say, and her mouth was refusing to formulate words properly anyway. Over the course of their... _friendship_ (Sabine didn't have time to think about how much more they were than friends) _,_ she'd gone from tolerating the boy's presence to appreciating it. He'd started as an absolute nuisance, but Sabine had seen him grow into a strong, determined, and loyal young man, with whom she'd entrusted her life to several times, and he had done the same for her. He was as much a part of Sabine's family as Hera, Zeb, Chopper, or even Tristan and her parents. And she was done with losing family.

Sabine gently took the lightsaber from his gloved hands, training her thumb along the playing of the hilt. She'd held it before, if only briefly, in her duel against Gar Saxon of Krownest. But this was so, so different.

Sabine wrapped her arms around Ezra, pulling him into a tight embrace. Their armor made it a little awkward, but neither of them minded. He still had that surprisingly recognizable smell after all these years; the smell of Lothal. Not the disgusting, polluted stench that the Empire had all but dumped into the atmosphere, but the warm (if warmth could have a scent), clean, earthy smell of the mountains in the south. Sabine had always associated the scent with Ezra since she'd noticed it all that time ago, but she had recognized it when the wolves had first taken them to the mountain camp.

"May the Force be with you, Ezra," she whispered.

"And also with you, Sabine," Ezra responded. The two pulled away from one another, though neither of them wanted to say goodbye. Another crack formed in Sabine's resolve. It was becoming painful to ignore the ache in her heart. She forced herself to extricate herself from his arms, then to not make eye contact as she stepped away.

 _Don't look back. Don't look back. You need to focus,_ Sabine told herself over and over, while the distance between her and the others seemed to lengthen like the stars in hyperspace. The pain won, and she looked back to Ezra.

He was gone.

Sabine couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief; she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to keep herself together if Ezra had still been there. But the sorrow gnawing at her core like a starved anooba didn't fade.

"Sabine?" Sabine jumped at hearing her name, whirling around sharply. The others were all looking at her.

"Where'd Ezra go off to..." Zeb started, "wait, don't tell me. He didn't actually _leave_ , right?"

She could only nod numbly, staring intensely at the durasteel floor. The low whine of a ship lifting off caught the attention of everyone in the room. Sabine watched with saddened determination as a gunship soared away from the Imperial complex, taking away Ezra just as Kanan had been taken.

"Ezra, get back here! That's an order!" Rex barked into his comlink.

"Guys," Sabine spoke quietly, but everyone turned to listen. "We have to trust him. The best thing we can do is to get that shield up so that when Ezra makes his move, we'll be ready. We have to assume that the generator room is well-guarded, so we'll need two teams to hit it from different sides if we're gonna capture both power terminals." She was telling herself this as much as she was the others, convincing herself that she hadn't just doomed Ezra.

Sabine fell back into her old pattern, almost on autopilot. Assess the situation, determine how to solve the problem, adapt as necessary. Just as she'd always done.

"Well that's probably our best shot," Ketsu spoke up. "Let's do this."

Sabine sighed, looking out the window. She could still make out the silver blip that was Ezra's gunship, on the verge of entering the Star Destroyer's umbilical hangar bay.

 _What have I done?_

A gloved hand rested lightly on her shoulder, and Sabine had to suppress the urge to jump in surprise. "You did the right thing. Bridger trusts us, and now we have to trust him, as you said," Kallus said quietly.

It didn't take long for the gunship to literally disappear into the belly of the beast, but Sabine continued to gaze out the window at the terrifying monster painted on the bottom of the starship, at the monsters hanging over them like the laser-axe of an executioner.

"I hope you're right," she responded.

Chopper turned to face them, letting out a stream of urgent grunts.

"We've got company," Wolffe translated, glancing towards the locked automatic door to the Command Center. The clanking of plastoid boots could be faintly heard on the other side. The rebels pointed their weapons at the door, wielding blaster rifles collected from their former 'captors.'

"It appears my troops have decided your drill is over," Pryce threatened.

The umbilical hangar of Thrawn's Star Destroyer loomed over Ezra's gunship like a massive beast, opening its maw to capture the hopeless prey.

 _I guess that's why it's called the Chimera,_ Ezra figured. He was distracting himself from what he knew might happen, and he knew it. He did have hope, hope that things would turn out alright, but it hinged on a sequence of events that had little chance of transpiring correctly. If hope could also be hopeless, then that was what he felt.

 _Let the Force be your guide._ Another of Kanan's teachings. Ezra breathed deeply, closing his eyes briefly. Millions of possible outcomes flashed before Ezra's eyes like the cloudy patterns of hyperspace, disappearing into the folds of time. He could still see the path; the one that had the best chance of saving Lothal, and of his friends living to see it. The Empire would be forced to leave, and only one life other would have to be lost. Sabine, Zeb, Chopper, Hera and _her unborn child_ , and all the others would live.

That path was impossible now. Something had changed. They were on a new path now.

Ezra opened his eyes. He could see several contingents of stormtroopers racing into the hangar. To his surprise, his hands did not shake as he landed the gunship. Cool, recirculated air swept into the cockpit as the canopy opened, and he stepped out, trying to crush his doubt with focus.

 _Stay focused._

Ezra didn't stop the stormtroopers from taking his blaster, nor did he struggle when they locked the binders tightly around his wrists. The survival of his family, friends, and his home depended on his cooperation, for now. It didn't take the Force to see that he had no other option. So Ezra let the troopers escort him from the hangar, through several identical corridors, into a turbolift, through more identical corridors, and to the threshold of an automatic door.

The door had barely hissed open when the armored elbow of one of Ezra's escorts shoved against his back, making him stumble into the office. Grand Admiral Thrawn sat behind his desk, as regal as a triumphant loth-cat. Behind him, a pair of strange, reptilian sculptures were positioned symmetrically on a shelf inset in the wall. But an object on Thrawn's desk caught Ezra's eyes. A white mask with narrow eye-slits, and weaving gold designs, sat upon a stand to Thrawn's right. A Jedi mask; the likes of which he hadn't seen since Malachor, when Kanan had first been blinded.

"It was a wise decision for you to surrender." Thrawn spoke with a voice as cold as ice, as he regarded the Jedi with blood-red eyes.

"I didn't have much choice," Ezra responded. He heard the two stormtroopers who'd escorted him leave, and then the door closing. They were alone.

"Oh, nonsense. You could have chosen to let your people die. However; you chose to be a Jedi."

Thrawn stood, turning away from Ezra, and continued, "Predictable. You follow a long history written by the Jedi, where they choose what they believe to be morally correct, instead of what is strategically sound."

Ezra just glared back at the Admiral. Perhaps it wasn't strategically sound to have surrendered, but then again, Thrawn didn't know that Ezra was stalling as part of a plan.

"And yet the Jedi have survived," Ezra responded.

Thrawn paced around his desk, occasionally making eye contact as he spoke. "Hmm, the Jedi once numbered in the thousands. What's left are a scattered, frightened lot; mostly beaten and in hiding, or poorly trained children like yourself."

A malicious smirk was growing on Thrawn's blue face. "I must admit, the mysteries of the Force are an enigma to me. But for all those abilities," he picked up the Jedi mask from it's display to study it, "all the power, the Jedi lacked the vision for how to use it."

Ezra was surprised by how difficult he was finding it to control his temper. The hopelessness and fear he felt was churning into anger and hatred towards Thrawn, the Empire, all of it. Thrawn spoke of the Force as if it were a tool to be exploited, of the Jedi as if they were wrong to do what was right over what was intelligent, of his friends and his home as if they were nothing more than Dejarik pieces; sacrificial and worthless.

"The Force isn't a weapon, but you'll never understand that," Ezra spat.

"Oh, I don't have to," Thrawn responded calmly, returning the mask to it's stand. "It was not my intention to utterly destroy Lothal, but that is inevitable now." He paced calmly to the left wall of his office, where what appeared to be the section of a sandstone wall had been mounted. The wall was covered in graffiti, but the most prominent design was an orange starbird, with it's head raised and wings open in flight. It was Sabine's starbird. An ache of sadness burned through Ezra's heart like a blaster bolt.

"These are some of the artifacts I've gathered from your homeworld. I saved what I could. I have even taken some of Sabine Wren's work; she's quite talented," Thrawn turned back to face Ezra, fixing him with an almost saddened expression. Pitying. "Or, _was_ quite talented."

Ezra couldn't breathe. The room felt crushingly hot, claustrophobically so, to the point that he felt as if he were drowning in a star. The weight of the binders around his wrists, of the armor on his very body, felt both light and heavy at once, further driving the confusion and rage that was reaching a fever pitch inside him.

"You think you can take whatever you want! Things you didn't make, didn't earn, things you don't even understand!" Ezra approached the Grand Admiral threateningly. He almost wished he had his lightsaber, to end Thrawn right here and now. "You don't deserve to have this art, or Lothal."

"Who deserves what is irrelevant; what matters is who has power," Thrawn spoke cooly, his former mask of pity gone. "But that is something the Jedi won't teach you, so I'll take you to someone who will."

The doors to the office slid open, and a pair of dark, tall droids entered to flank Ezra. Dark grey plating covered their bodies; they had a humanoid structure, but their legs and arms were far longer and thinner than any humanoid he'd seen before. Their heads resembled skulls, each with a pair of glowing white photoreceptors.

Thrawn strode past them and the droids followed, escorting the Jedi out. Ezra felt his fury slowly dissipating as they walked through endless corridors, replaced with a strange feeling, beyond just uncertainty. His anger remained, but the strength behind it seemed to ebb away like a dying fire. All of his doubts, all the voices in his head telling him that he would fail, that his friends would die, became overwhelmingly loud as uncertainty spiraled into fear. But even past that, there was a presence; lurking behind the door they were approaching. He'd felt it chasing him and Ahsoka with tongues of blue flame through the strange Force-realm, felt its shadow hanging behind Vader, the Inquisitors, and even Maul.

The cold.

The droids stopped, but Ezra and Thrawn continued to stand before the door. Thrawn drew a code cylinder from a pocket, and inserted it into a panel beside the door. Ezra drew in a deep breath, following some of the breathing exercises Kanan had taught him.

Stay calm. Fighting won't help here. Just stay calm and buy the others time, Ezra thought. A strong, blue hand clamped around his shoulder, disrupting his concentration. The door slid open, revealing some sort of large storage bay. In the center of the room, atop a mound of grass and soil, stood a tall stone archway, leading off into darkness. Spiraling patterns were painted along the archway, and Ezra realized that he recognized them. It was the door to the Jedi Temple, cut from the face of the stone on the Lothal's surface. Before the archway stood a hologram of a robed figure, facing away from him and the Admiral.

"My Emperor, I have brought you Ezra Bridger," Thrawn said to the hologram.

Oh no. It all made sense; the doubts, the fear, the cold presence like ice water creeping down Ezra's spine. This was the Sith who had nearly destroyed Lothal just trying to find the Temple, who pulled the strings of Vader, the Inquisitors, and the Empire. The grotesque, hunched creature in the portal, who cackled and howled as he spewed fire from his hands in the World Between Worlds (as Ahsoka had called it).

But Ezra did not recognize the hologram as it turned to face him. The figure projected before him was not the disfigured, twisted creature he'd glimpsed, but rather that of a kind old man, with a hooked nose and kind eyes. He was clad in simple white robes, and his voice was charismatic and warm; a far cry from the cold, gravelly voice he'd heard in the World Between Worlds.

"My dear boy, I've so wanted to meet you. And here you are, at last,"


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I am so sorry everyone. I've made promise after promise that I would push out another chapter "soon," and soon happened to take two months. I've had a pretty busy summer, but I've also squandered a lot of opportunities to write. So, sorry for keeping you waiting. I'll hopefully get another chapter out soon-ish, but as you likely know, soon can be a week or a month or more. Hopefully not that long though. I'd also like to give a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story so far; it means so much to me to hear that kind of encouragement, so thank you. Anyway, reviews and critiques are more than welcome as always, and I hope you enjoy.

"W-wolf!?"

Mart's cry of alarm roused Hera from unconsciousness. Then the hammering feeling in her skull returned like a supernova, making her wish she hadn't woken. Furthermore, a dull ache throbbed in her gut, different from any physical wound. She'd felt it before too; after Kanan's sacrifice at the fuel depot, and both during and after their trip to the Jedi Temple. Hera hadn't had the time to speculate causes before, and she didn't now.

"What is it Mart? What happened?" She grunted, slowly peeling herself off the smooth stone ground. Though she'd barely moved, the dull headache spiked to a tempest of pain in response to the sudden motion, forcing Hera to fall back onto her knees.

"I-It's the Loth-wolves," Mart replied.

A pair of bright yellow eyes met Hera's as she lifted her head. The wolf before her had black and grey fur, and was one of four others standing guard

"Well, Thrawn's little _pet_ is gone, and we're not dead, so I guess the wolves scared him off."

Hera hoped the wolves had done far more than just scare that thing. She stood up to survey the damage; overturned supplies, a scorch mark where she'd almost been killed by a thermal detonator, and a few bruises and scratches on Mart and herself. The _Ghost_ didn't appear to have been damaged or sabotaged, but she'd make sure to run a diagnostic before they left. If they had time.

 _Oh stars, how long have we been out?_

"What's happened now?" Vizago asked lazily, slowly getting to his feet. Hera frantically commed Sabine, praying to whatever beings existed that the plan hadn't been compromised. What if they were too late? What if the others had been overrun in the Dome?

"Hera? Is everything alright?" Sabine's voice crackled from her comlink. Hera breathed a sigh of relief, and the ache in her gut abated slightly. _Interesting._

"Sabine! Am I glad to hear you!" She responded. "What's your status?"

"Uh, currently we're trying to escape the Command Center to get to the shield generators,"

Hera looked down at her comlink in confusion, as if Sabine could somehow see her expression. Why were they going to the shield generators?

"Why? What's happened over there?" She asked. Mart and Vizago circled around her to listen in.

"Well, Thrawn came back sooner than expected. He threatened to destroy the city, un-" Sabine's voice cut out.

"Sabine? Sabine, are you there?!" Hera exclaimed. She hadn't heard any blaster fire, but her imagination spawned endless what-if's as the three waited anxiously.

When Sabine spoke again, her voice was not filled with the strength and ferocity it usually exuded. Her voice wavered, and Hera could almost feel the pain the young Mandalorian felt.

"He threatened to destroy the city, unless Ezra surrendered himself."

Vizago blinked with vague surprise. Mart looked awed almost, but also seemed deep in thought. However, Hera's mouth refused to respond, as if her thoughts were blaster bolts hitting a ray shield. Stopped dead. Ezra had sacrificed himself to save his family and his home, just as Kanan had.

 _Blast it, why did I have to think that?_

Hera sealed her eyes shut in pain, as thoughts of Kanan returned. Grief had seemed to toy with her mind for days now, like a nexu stalking its prey. First she'd been crippled, then forced by duty to hobble about as if her heart wasn't broken. She knew that it was not any of the rebels telling her to do this, but rather her own obligations. She couldn't afford to be weak now; she'd have time to grieve properly once Lothal was free. Or once the war was over. Someday.

Hearing of Ezra, and knowing that the son that she'd never had was following in the footsteps of the man she'd silently loved, felt like the nexu was crippling her yet again, despite the fact that she was already broken.

"Alright," Hera spoke softly. Her voice sounded as unsteady as Sabine's had. "We were attacked by Thrawn's oversized monkey-lizard."

"Are you alright?" Sabine asked, sounding more composed.

"Yes, but there's no sign of it. It may have gone back to warn Thrawn."

Sabine paused, before responding. "I'll bet that's how the shield generators went down. We've been jamming Imperial transmissions from the Dome, but the little rancor-thing was still able to contact Thrawn."

"And that's why you're headed to the generators? To save the city?"

"Yeah. Oh, and everyone else is alive, just so you know," Sabine added solemnly.

"Let's try to keep it that way. Do you need air support?" Hera asked.

"Negative; just stand by for pickup, I suppose."

"Alright. Stay safe out there."

"You too. Spectre 5 out."

Hera stared down at her comlink after the line went dead, hoping that Ezra's voice would somehow come through, as jovial as ever. She wished she could lean into Kanan's arms, or at the very least feel his presence. She wished her families hadn't been shaped by war.

Just when Hera thought she couldn't feel any worse, Mart broke the silence. "It's just like Ezra said."

 _Kriff._

Hera wheeled on Mart, suddenly furious. "What do you mean, 'it's like Ezra said?' What did he tell you?"

Mart's look of confusion, surprise and fear made her anger abate, but only slightly. It wasn't right to take this out on the kid, even if he'd intentionally withheld information from his ranking officer, possibly endangering the entire strike team.

 _It's probably not his fault. Yelling at him won't save the others._

Drawing back, Hera drew in a breath, paused, and exhaled. "Mart, explain yourself," she asked sternly.

"E-Ezra warned me that there was a chance that Thrawn would get back to the Capital before they finished the plan, and if it looked like that was the case, he gave us a special mission," Mart answered, still wary of the General's reaction.

"What mission?"

Mart glanced nervously at the _Ghost._ "We're supposed to go into high orbit above Lothal and send out a signal beacon at frequency zero," he explained.

"Frequency Zero? As in the old subspace communications frequency?" Hera asked. "I thought nobody used that anymore, not since pre-hyperspace travel?"

"That's what I thought too. Ezra didn't say who we were contacting."

 _Well this just keeps getting better and better,_ Hera thought, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Her headache had settled to a faint pain, like background static. But her physical discomfort was the least of her concerns.

If they lived to see Lothal liberated, Hera was going to smack Ezra for his stupid heroics. Why did the Jedi have to be so damned noble, so self-sacrificing? Hera has once seen the allure of sacrifice, of dying a martyr for the Rebellion. She'd fantasized that maybe if she gave her life for the cause, then her father might be proud of her. But now she knew how selfish it was to sacrifice oneself. Kanan had valued Hera's life over her love for him, and now... she didn't even know what was left of the person he'd died saving. And here Ezra was, doing the Same. Damn. Thing. And Hera could tell from Sabine's voice alone that she felt the same way Hera had after Kanan's death; Crushed.

But now Ezra's weird behavior earlier made a little more sense. For whatever reason, his plan needed Hera to be in the cockpit of the _Ghost_ , instead of with him and the others in the Dome.

"Alright. I don't like this at all, but I trust Ezra," Hera decided. "I won't order either of you to go along with this, but I'm going."

"The others need us either way, and I'm not about to abandon them," Mart replied almost immediately. "I'm in."

Vizago sighed, shaking his head. "Just for the record, I hated this plan from the start. But I trust Bridger too," he said.

Hera nodded, starting towards the _Ghost_. Her anger and grief for Ezra hadn't abated, and she knew that they were still a long way from saving Lothal and everyone else, but she couldn't let that get in the way of saving her family. But Ezra just might need saving from her when this was over.

Sabine lowered her comlink and turned around in time to see Zeb shove Melch into a cooling duct. He looked like he'd been caught stealing a meiloorun from Hera's quarters when he saw her confused gaze.

"It's part of the plan. The pig's gonna distract the troops outside, and then we'll head out," Zeb explained, handing Melch a blaster.

"Oh... yeah, I figured as much," Sabine replied quietly. She'd seen the Lasat shove many strange things into many strange places before, so she hadn't given it much thought this time. Puffer-pigs, stormtroopers, heck; he'd thrown Ezra into a storage locker on the _Ghost_ when they'd first met.

 _Stop._

Sabine bowed her head in sorrow. She couldn't afford to get distracted now, not with so much at stake. Ezra was counting on them to-

 _Was this what he meant, when he said he could always count on me?_

It made sense that Ezra was counting on them to see his plan through and trust that he wouldn't... that he knew what he was doing. But that was a given; something inside the Mandalorian told her that there was more to Ezra's affirmation. But what else was she meant to do?

"Everyone set?" Rex asked.

Sabine blinked in surprise, realizing ashamedly that she'd gotten distracted while trying to not get distracted. Kallus, Gregor, Wolffe, and Zeb stood alongside Rex, Ketsu, and Hondo before the door, having separated into the two strike teams. She returned to a console alongside Chopper and Azadi, before nodding to the clone veteran. He in turn nodded to Zeb, who rapped his fist against the cooling duct in a series of rapid _clunks_. The sound reminded Sabine of her escape from the mobile command center at the Jedi Temple, when Zeb and Hera had used the same signals to communicate with her.

Within moments, the sound of muffled blaster fire could be heard through the door. After a few seconds, Sabine heard the _swish_ of the door sliding open, followed by the heavy _thunk_ of a strong Lasat fist connecting with a stormtrooper's helmet. The blaster fire, mixed with stormtroopers yelling and the Ugnaught's squeals, faded into the distance, though they were still audible.

"Alright. Kallus, Zeb, Wolffe, Gregor; you take the north tower. Rex, Hondo, Ketsu; take the south. Azadi and I can guide you from here," Sabine delegated.

"Let's go rebels!" Zeb declared, before all but charging out the door with the two strike teams following behind.

The door slid shut, and the room went quiet. Sabine concentrated on studying the primary schematic display, tracking the comlinks of the strike team members to follow their progress down to the shield generator room. From the Command Center, she, Azadi, and Chopper had access to the entire Dome, and could remotely control almost every blast door and turbolift in the building. It felt good to be in control of the situation, to have the plan actually working, though she doubted that would last. In fact, Sabine couldn't remember the last time a plan had gone even half-well before something threw all their contingencies and timetables out the airlock. Regardless, anything to help distract her from the anxiety churning inside her like a snowstorm on Krownest was a welcome diversion.

Sabine prided herself in her ability to keep a cool head in spite of the chaos that came with her line of work. When plans invariably went awry, she was always able to adapt and respond accordingly. She was no stranger to fear, but she'd been taught since she could hold a blaster that fear wasn't something a warrior denied or ignored, but rather acknowledged. It was only when fear, or emotions in general, interfered with one's decisions on the battlefield that problems arose. And Sabine was struggling with that now, more so than she would've expected. She feared for Ketsu, Zeb, and the rest of the strike team as they dove headlong into the rathtar's den. She feared for Hera, who had already lost so much and may lose more before the battle was won. She feared for Ezra, at the mercy of the terrible, star-crushing evil that had taken so much from her and those she loved.

Sabine closed her eyes for a moment, forcing her breathing to a slow rhythm like the ebb and flow of the sea. A warm feeling, a familiar presence, grew within her, and the snowstorm calmed a little more. A quiet ringing filled the air, reminding her of... a flute? No this was more natural sounding, like wind echoing through the mountains of Lothal.

 _They trust you; trust them back. The others will survive, Hera will be alright, and Ezra knows what he's doing._

She opened her eyes, and got back to work.

"That will be all, Grand Admiral," the Emperor drawled regally.

Thrawn bowed slowly, and the Jedi was alone.

"I apologize for not being there in person, but governing the galaxy takes up much of my time," the old man continued.

 _Right, and I'm Boba Fett_.

"I know who you are; and _what_ you are," Ezra spat back. What was the point of this disguise, when he already knew the Emperor's true face? If he thought that he could fool Ezra with a kind face, he was about as smart as a binary droid. Ezra has grown up on the streets; he didn't need the Force to know a conman.

That was one other concern. Since entering the room, Ezra had felt his connection to the Force become weakened. It felt like numb, frostbitten fingers in the winter, if not losing a limb or sense entirely. He could imagine that this must've been how Kanan had felt when he'd lost his sight. The once-powerful presence of the Jedi Temple Door before him felt like a whisper, but the Star Destroyer, teeming with organic beings, was a complete void. He had no doubt it was the Sith's fault.

"You misjudge me. Can you not see the opportunity that stands here before you?" The Emperor continued, gesturing towards the Temple Door. He sounded almost offended.

"I see a part of the Jedi Temple which you stole from Lothal!"

"I had this portion of the Temple moved here, stone by stone, for you. Forgive me, but I would've thought you would thank me for this effort."

"Thank you?" Ezra repeated with disgust. "Thank you for destroying the Temple? For enslaving my people? For killing my parents!?"

 _How_ _dare_ he expect thanks for all the Empire had done. This man had destroyed the lives of billions. Because of him and his regime, Hera's people were enslaved, Kanan's master was dead, Zeb's people were massacred, and Sabine's world was overtaken. And he expected _thanks._

"My dear boy, it's you who chose to destroy the Temple. The actions of your Rebel friends require a firm hand to ensure that there is order on Lothal," the Emperor chided with a fatherly tone. "As for your parents, allow me to offer what might have been, and what may yet be."

The Emperor stepped to the side, gesturing with a holographic hand once more towards the Temple Door, beckoning Ezra to enter.

 _It's a trap. Don't do it,_ a voice warned in Ezra's mind. _He's trying to trick you._

He wanted to keep being angry; to fight and make the Empire pay for what they'd done. He could hear Maul whispering in his ear from beyond the grave, telling him to use his anger to gain strength. But there was Kanan and Ahsoka, encouraging him to stay focused and let the Force guide him. There was Hera, Rex and Zeb, asking him to calm down and think. There was Sabine, reminding him that he wasn't alone, and that he could count on himself too. Ezra smiled to himself a little, and thought. If this trap was designed to kill him, the Imperial's could have done that already; they must need something from him. But what? What could the Emperor possibly want from a part-time Jedi like him? The Empire had already taken everything from his friends and his planet; all he had left to offer was his life and those of his friends. The lives of- wait a minute.

Knowledge. Were they after the knowledge that Ahsoka lives, that Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi survived? That made sense, but then why come here, and not an interrogation room?

 _Well, whatever they want, they need me alive for it,_ Ezra mused. _And the others are counting on me to buy them time._

He slowly approached the Door with new confidence, shooting the Emperor a distrustful glare as he passed. The earthen mound beneath the Door smelled of home, and Ezra felt a twinge of nostalgia for those evenings on the _Ghost_ , surrounded by fields of grass and Lothal's sun setting in the distance. Training with Kanan, roughhousing with Zeb, painting the TIE fighter with Sabine.

 _If all goes according to plan, we could go back to that._

The Temple Door led down a long, darkened hallway, to... somewhere. The end of the tunnel glowed gold, though the silhouette of a humanoid figure had begun to take shape. The voice of a ghost echoed through time and space, stopping Ezra dead in his tracks with a look of pure shock on his face.

"Dinner's ready, Ezra," Mira Bridger, _his_ _mother_ , beckoned. "Ezra?"

 _It can't be. How is this possible?_

It took Ezra a moment to realize she wasn't a hologram or recording; he could feel her presence on the other side of the golden veil through the Force. His father's presence was there too, but Ezra couldn't see him yet. A small voice wondered if it was like the holographic ghost the Empire had used to reanimate Master Luminara all those years ago at The Spire, but he could tell that wasn't the case either. Kanan had said that the old master's presence had been clouded; his mother's was only distorted by time. Somehow, it was his mother.

That didn't make him any less suspicious of the Emperor.

"They are waiting for you; go to them. Open the door," the old man spoke softly. "This is what you want, isn't it? The life you deserved."

"But it can't be," Ezra denied, trying to convince himself more than anyone. All of his previous confidence crushed by shock and longing; this was _not_ what he'd been expecting.

"Yes it can, but you must choose to make it so." The Emperor's voice was surprisingly sincere, and Ezra almost wanted to believe him. He'd convinced himself for seven years that his parents were dead, and that he was on his own. That was the first lesson he'd had to learn to survive: no one was going to come for him. Not his parents, not Tseebo, not anyone. That had changed when he met the rebels, and when they took him into their dysfunctional little family, but the fact remained that his parents were gone. And now his mother and father stood on the other side of a door, and Ezra couldn't deny the part of him that desperately wanted to be with them.

 _No, you can't. Don't believe him, he's obviously lying,_ the Jedi told himself. _It's too good to be true; Maul made these kinds of promises, and you_ know _the consequences._

 _But you have to buy the others time,_ he responded. _And what's the harm in looking? It's not like you have much choice, right?_

 _Right?_

This voice triggered a warning in Ezra's mind, like a shadow slinking beneath the surface of a river, but it seemed so small, and Ezra would be lying if he said he weren't curious.

"Ezra?" His mother called again, her voice just as melodic and warm as it had been nine years ago.

Ezra didn't see the Emperor's triumphant smirk as he continued down the hall.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry for the wait, once more (though hey, it wasn't 3+ months). This chapter is more action-oriented, which was really interesting to write, because so far this fic's been fairly slow-paced, and I also tried to combine my martial arts knowledge with the Star Wars universe and the fighting styles of these characters (but mostly Sabine in this chapter). Also, thank you so much to everyone who's followed and reviewed this fic. Your support means a lot to me, and I appreciate all of you. I hope you enjoy.

"Base, this is Team A," Ketsu called from the other side of the comlink. "We're in."

"Copy that Team A. What's it look like down there?" Sabine replied.

"Oh, it's just great! _Really_ wish you were here!"

Sabine smiled. The bounty hunter's sarcasm was as clear as the plentiful blaster fire on the other side of the transmission. The displays showed that all three members of Team A had made it to the shield generator, which was also occupied by at least a dozen Imperials.

"Our problems are multiplying, we could use some help down here!" Rex exclaimed urgently.

"Team B? What's your status?" Azadi opened a channel to Zeb.

"Kallus and I are headed towards Sector GL-44!" The Lasat's voice was barely audible over the heavy blaster fire in the background. "Wolffe and Gregor should be heading the same way!"

"What do you mean, _should be?_ "

"We got separated a little ways ba-"

A loud explosion cut him off, startling everyone in the Command Center. The crackle of static and flames was the only indication that Zeb's comlink was still intact, though that said little about the condition of its owner. Sabine's heart raced, and her mind spared no detail in wondering what had happened. For a moment she simply stared at her comlink with bated breath, as if doing so would will a response from it. The sensors at Zeb's location had been destroyed; there was no way to tell who was still alive down there, if anyone. The rebels had barely breached the shield generator, and the plan was already starting to fall apart.

"Team B, do you copy?" She asked, but was met with silence. "Zeb, are you there?"

Nothing.

"Chopper, see in you can get those sensors ba-"

"We're here," Zeb growled in a strained voice, as the blaster fire began to resume.

Sabine sighed in relief, returning to her comlink. "Zeb! What happened, are you alright?!"

"I'll live, but Kallus is injured, and emergency blast doors have cut us off."

"Chop, open blast door... 58-60!"

The astromech bleeped affirmatively, plugging back into the droid interface terminal, only to stop and release a string of grunts and warbles.

 _The door's broken. Great._

Sabine considered her options. Zeb and Kallus were most likely pinned between the broken door and the stormtroopers. They couldn't get the door open, so someone had to divert the stormtroopers, but Zeb and Kallus might not survive long enough for help to arrive. Judging from the background noise in the transmission, there were also fires in the corridor, therefore the fire suppression systems must have been damaged. Stormtrooper helmets were designed to filter out smoke, but the rebels didn't have such protection, so they were also prone to asphyxiation along with getting shot. Great.

The Mandalorian glanced up at the primary schematic. Gregor, Wolffe, and Team A had made little progress at the shield generator, while Melch had somehow managed to not be blown to pieces... wait.

"Sabine! What's the plan!?" Zeb barked urgently over the hollow, _twanging_ sound of blasters.

Why had there been an explosion anyways? Standard stormtroopers didn't usually carry thermal detonators, especially not when stationed in occupied cities. And why did their blasters sound different? There had been normal blaster fire as far as she could tell, right up to the explosion. And Zeb's comlink sounded alright, so why had there been static?

A memory came to mind; strange stormtroopers in black armor and wielding upgraded weapons, guarding a Kyber crystal aboard an Imperial cargo shipment. And then a week later, those same troopers patrolling the streets and sewers of a dying Lothal. And the very same troopers had also been protecting the Jedi Temple just last night.

 _Death troopers._

Sabine wanted to smack herself for not realizing it sooner, but frankly she didn't have time. She'd been considering sending Melch to sow chaos amongst the troopers. That was no longer an option; the Ugnaught would be cut to pieces. They needed someone who could eliminate the elite stormtroopers and get Zeb and Kallus to safety, without getting shot in the process. They needed a Jedi.

Or the next-best alternative.

"Chop, close blast door 58-58, and see if you can open up any air ducts at Zeb's location." Sabine snatched her helmet off a console and checked her weapons. Her blaster pistols and vambraces were fully charged, her jetpack had about half a tank of fuel, and she had a decent amount of various explosives at the ready. And most importantly, Ezra's lightsaber hung from her belt.

Chopper gave a proud series of mechanical grunts, as a nearby display switched to the corridor's remaining sensor readings. Zeb and Kallus were now protected in the section of corridor between blast doors 58-58 and 58-60, and ventilation fans had activated to purge the smoke from their makeshift bunker. A squadron of of Death troopers were attempting to break in; Sabine would have to hurry.

"Where are you going?" Azadi asked as she neared the door.

"I'm going to get Zeb and Kallus. I'll send them up here once I'm through." Sabine slipped her helmet over her head and started running down the hall. She opened a comm-channel to Rex and the Command Center as she neared an executive turbolift. "Rex, how soon can you get those towers online?"

"I can't get to the control panel, you've got to extend the bridges!" The clone replied.

"Chopper, get on that!"

The turbolift finally arrived, and Sabine stepped aboard. She took a deep breath and tried to calm the anxious energy building inside her as the lift descended. It wasn't liked her to get so... _antsy_ before battle, but then again things were very different today. For one, the rebels usually weren't spread so thinly, and it wasn't everyday that the fate of an entire planet rested on their shoulders. And, she realized solemnly, they usually had more Jedi. She double checked her weapons to distract herself, and her gaze lingered on the lightsaber hanging from her belt.

 _I wonder how Ezra's doing up there. I hope he's alright._

Sabine snapped to attention as the turbolift decelerated, and was running down the pristine corridor by the time the doors had fully opened. She didn't have time to think about Ezra now; she had a job to do. The air darkened gradually with smoke as she neared Sector GL-44, and she stopped when she the heard the sound of radio chatter. Her friends were just around the corner, trapped behind durasteel and Death troopers; she could even hear the magnetic clamps of the detonators attaching to the blast door. She drew her pistols and peeked around the corner...

...and flinched back as the two troopers standing guard fired a volley of blaster bolts at her, searing small craters into the wall opposite to her. She holstered one pistol and grabbed a thermal detonator from her belt, but stopped. She couldn't throw an explosive into the corridor or even shoot in the general direction of her enemies; doing so would risk setting off their explosives and killing Zeb and Kallus.

 _Smart,_ Sabine thought. _Smarter than the average buckethead, for sure. But I'm smarter._

The Death troopers knew everything the Empire had gathered on her, such as her Mandalorian weapons, history, affiliations, and whatever else Thrawn had dug up. They knew she was trying to save her allies, and that she couldn't attack them with ranged or explosive weapons because of the detonators. But they didn't know she had a secret weapon.

The emerald green blade of Ezra's lightsaber snapped to life in Sabine's hands as she rounded the corner with her vambrace shield activated. The satisfying _pop_ of the blade's ignition, far different from the Darksaber's cool hum, sent a thrill of excitement down her spine; she was really starting to see the appeal of lightsabers. There was a feeling of power, of awe, that came with the sensation of connecting to and wielding the sabers. The Darksaber had felt calm and powerful in both her hands and her mind, a reflection of herself and any Mandalorian in the heat of battle. Ezra's felt more energetic, almost eager to sow chaos; a good match for its owner.

If the Death troopers were surprised, they didn't show it as they continued to fire. Two of the troops working on the detonators turned and joined the guards, opening fire. Crimson streaks of plasma shot all around the Mandalorian, striking the wall or her shield, or deflecting off her- _Ezra's_ lightsaber. She dashed forward with a burst of speed from her jetpack, kicking one trooper in the center of their black helmet while slicing another's blaster in half. Her feet had barely touched the ground when she spun and fired a concussive blast from her opposite vambrace, blasting the four troopers down the corridor.

The kick from the blast jarred Sabine's arm and pushed her towards the fifth trooper; she hadn't had time to ground herself very well before firing when she landed. She used the momentum to spin around and slash the fifth Death trooper across the chest with Ezra's lightsaber. A strange, electronically warbled scream projected from the trooper's helmet as they slumped to the floor in a heap of black armor. Her helmet filtered out the stench of burnt plastoid and flesh, and it barely occurred to her as she advanced that this was the first time she'd ever killed with a lightsaber. The remaining troopers had barely staggered to their feet when Sabine cut through them in a flash of green, and they fell back down one by one.

The Mandalorian took a moment to refocus and let the adrenaline wear off a little. Wielding the lightsaber had felt completely natural, almost more so than the Darksaber had. Not simply swinging the saber, but connecting with the heart of the blade; there was a strong sense of _Ezra-ness_ radiating from what she assumed was the saber's crystal. It was a comforting feeling actually, like she was fighting alongside the young Jedi once more.

"Zeb, Kallus, I've secured the area," Sabine spoke into her helmet comlink while disarming and removing the detonators attached to the blast door. "You two alright in there?"

"We've been through worse," the Lasat grunted.

"Glad to hear it. Chopper, reopen 58-58."

The astromech bleeped in response on the other end, and the blast doors slid open. The fires must not have spread to their holdout, and her helmet detected minimal residual smoke in their bunker. Zeb stood up slowly helped Kallus get to his feet. The both looked like they'd just tried wrestling with a rancor, and Kallus has some nasty looking burns... everywhere really.

"Alright, I need you two to get back to the Command Center," Sabine ordered. "I didn't encounter any Imps on the way down here, so you should have a clear path, but I can see if we can get Melch just in case."

"We'll probably be better off without that Ugnaught," Zeb grumbled.

"I'm glad your sense of humor survived," Kallus said, followed by a fit of coughing. "We'll call Azadi if we need help."

With that, the two slowly turned and trudged down the corridor, and Sabine turned her attention towards the broken blast door standing between her and the path to the shield generator. Hotwiring it would take far too long, but Ezra's lightsaber would work pretty well. She reignited the green saber and plunged it into the thick metal blast door.

"Sabine, Chopper can't access the bridge controls from here. What now?" Azadi asked through Sabine's helmet.

"Tell Rex to find an override panel," she responded, guiding the saber in a rough circle through the durasteel.

 _How the hell does Ezra not burn his hands off doing this all the time?_

Kanan and Ezra honestly made it look easy when they did it. The blast door was even denser and more resistant than Sabine had expected, and that was saying something considering that she designed explosives to destroy such doors on a regular basis. The lightsaber hilt didn't give her much leverage against the metal, which meant she had to be careful with the blade's angle. And furthermore, the heat radiating off the near-molten metal was gradually cooking her hands. Finally, Sabine managed to complete the rough, smoldering circle she'd cut into blast door. She pushed it through to the opposite side of the corridor and ducked through the opening. Gripping a blaster pistol in one hand and Ezra's lightsaber in the other, she dashed down one more corridor and through a final door, and entered the shield generator room.

The situation was, as Ketsu had sarcastically put it, just _great._ Stormtroopers, Death troopers, and Imperial technicians alike had control of the majority of the room, which was a cavernous, spherical chamber with a large tower-like structure in its center; Sabine recognized it to be the shield projector tower. A walkway ringed the tower on the lower level, suspended over the rows of orange energy pylons arranged at the bottom of the chamber, and held in place by two support towers on either side of the projector tower. Four walkways fanned out on the second level of the tower like sniper crosshairs, extending to doors on the second level, where Sabine had entered. On the level below her, Team A had taken cover behind one of the console stations at the entrance, while Gregor and a wounded Wolffe were encamped behind the support tower in front of her. The Imperials had control of the three upper walkways, as well as most of the lower ring and the tower itself, and thus were pummeling the rebels with fire from multiple angles.

 _I need to flank them; draw their fire so the others can activate the bridge._

Sabine set her sights upon a squad of Death troopers positioned at a control station at the end of the walkway to her left. She palmed a second thermal detonator, activated her vambrace shield, and leapt from the walkway. Her jetpack's activation felt like nothing more than a minor push against her back, but she was quickly soaring towards the next walkway. A few shots whizzed by as she fell, but none came close enough for her to need to deflect them. Most of the Death troopers had partial cover from the console, so she zeroed in on the most exposed trooper standing farthest from cover. The troopers diverted their attention to her and opened fire; just as she'd hoped. Sabine dodged and weaved through the air with practiced grace and efficiency, deftly avoiding each blaster bolt while drawing steadily closer to her targets. At the last minute she spun sharply to the left and slammed her foot into the helmet of the furthest trooper, hopefully taking them all by surprise. She tucked her head and pulled into a combat roll just as she hit the walkway, before quickly rising to a defensive stance with her shield in front of her. Then she tossed the now-armed detonator towards the Death troopers and leapt off the walkway.

Comotion on the first level drew her attention for a split second. Team A had managed to extend the bridge, but there was still too much enemy fire to cross. Therefore it was the perfect time for Melch to arrive with half a squad of stormtroopers on his tail, make a break for the bridge, and promptly get shot. Hondo ran after him, and was gunned down in seconds. Sabine knew nothing about the Ugnaught, and had often wished she didn't know Hondo, but their deaths still hurt. But she couldn't mourn now; there'd be time for that once the battle was over.

She dived down and spun in the air to face the Imperials on the level below her. Two stormtroopers, a Death trooper, and- it. That creepy Imperial gremlin she'd fought with Zeb. She raised her pistols and fired a wide spray at the Imps, taking out the Death trooper and one of the bucketheads. The remaining trooper and the creature returned fire, but she intercepted the shots with her shield. The Mandalorian kicked off the curved walls and launched a spinning side kick into the stormtroopers face, sending them flying off the walkway. The creature turned to face her with a low growl, and it's rifle extended into an electrostaff.

"I see you didn't like your makeover," Sabine taunted, referencing the graffiti she'd painted all over the creature's unconscious body a few nights before, but all the while studying her opponent carefully. After their first fight, she knew more-or-less what the creature was capable of, so she was confident that she could defeat it this time. At least now she knew how to counter his personal cloak if necessary.

"I see the Grand Admiral has fooled you once more," it hissed back, studying her in turn. "And that you rebels have thrown yourselves into a suicide mi-"

Sabine didn't let him finish. The creature was taken by surprise for only a second, but quickly adapted. It dodged her blasts with incredible agility, while steadily closing the gap between them until it was in range to lash out with it's electrostaff. It's purple spear tip of electricity passed mere inches from Sabine's legs in a move to sweep her. She stumbled slightly in her retreat, and within seconds her pistols had been knocked forcefully from her grasp and off the walkway. Staggering her legs in a fighter stance allowed her to regain her footing. Before she could grab Ezra's lightsaber from her belt, the creature feigned a strike to her ribs and spun to instead threw a crescent kick at her head, which Sabine sidestepped. Facing it's back, she immediately followed with an elbow strike to the head just as the creature threw a weak strike with it's opposite hand at her torso. Something metal glinted in it's fist...

And suddenly every nerve in Sabine's body flared to life, as electricity emanated from a device planted on her chestplate. A stifled scream was cut short by her jaws clamping shut from the nervous overload. Fireworks of intense pain made her spasm and twitch as she dropped to her knees and frantically clawed at the circular device that clung to her like a barb, too distracted to notice the electrostaff arcing towards her head at high speed until it was a few inches away. Sparks danced in her vision, both from the head trauma of the blow and the electrostaff colliding with her helmet. But when her head hit the cold metal walkway there was no cushioning from her helmet's impact compensators; she faintly heard it skitter further away. Her attempt to roll onto her side into a ground fighting stance was deftly halted by a searing burst of heat and electricity from the creature's electrostaff prodding at her exposed ribs. Her right arm was pinned underneath her, so all she could do was activate her shield once more to block another strike, only for her arm to go limp at another shock from the device.

 _I'm_ really _starting to hate this guy._

A blaster bolt pinged off the door far behind the two, distracting the creature momentarily. Another shot stuck it's leg, and it stumbled to the ground. Sabine glanced towards the source of the fire, to see Ketsu flash her a smirk from across the gap. The Mandalorian responded with a weak salute, but quickly retreated to retrieve her helmet. The creature's blow had cracked the visor and scraped off some of the paint, but the _beskar_ was undamaged. The artist in her was dismayed by the condition of the paintwork, but she couldn't deny the 'intimidation factor' of the metallic scar running across her helmet. She slipped it back onto her head, and a quick diagnostic revealed no internal damage, though her vambrace shield was badly depleted. Similarly, Sabine felt completely drained. Such short fights didn't usually exhaust her that much, but then again she wasn't electrocuted repeatedly in most fights. She fought to control her rapid, uneven breathing, while she dislodged the device latched to her armor. Her whole body shook with the lingering numbness from the shocks, making it hard to stand; let alone fight. Sabine took in the situation around her while her breathing slowly calmed and her hands stopped shaking. The creature was slowly coming out of it's daze from being shot; it looked weak, but she knew by now to not underestimate the little monster. The rebels were slowly whittling away at the Imperials, but had yet to make it across the bridge. Melch and Hondo's bodies lay inert on the bridge.

A low, primal growl drew Sabine's attention back to her opponent. The creature struggled to it's feet and glared at Sabine with animal-like fury. The Mandalorian took a deep breath, before staggering her feet into a fighting stance and drew her secret weapon from her belt.

 _Time to finish you off_.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Again, I'm really sorry I haven't been consistently updating. I've been really busy with school, but I've still passed up on plenty of opportunities to write. So, I'm sorry. These past chapters have been laying the groundwork for the story I've had in mind for ages, about Sabine searching for Ezra five years after the events of Rebels, and I actually do have a plan for that (there's foreshadowing in this chapter), but these past chapters have also dragged out a little, and I don't want to bore you all. So there's going to be one more chapter of this foundational stuff, and then I'll start telling the story I've been planning. Thank you all for reading this, it means the world to me, and here's Chapter 6.

Ezra desperately wanted the Emperor to be lying; that would make it so much easier to resist the temptation that coaxed him deeper into the hall and quieted his fears and suspicions. The Emperor needed him alive for something, and he had a hunch he knew what it was, but he didn't have much choice other than to cooperate for now. Sabine, Zeb, and the others were at Thrawn's mercy and needed time, and 'heroics' on his part would only get them killed. For now, he could only be patient and do as the Emperor asked, and hope that Sabine and the others had retaken the shield generator.

"Ezra, I made your favorite!" Mira called.

"The gateway will not be open forever. Go now, before it's too late," the Emperor spoke soothingly.

His heart tightened at the sound of his mother's voice, and it took far too much of Ezra's willpower to stop walking. It would be so easy to just go and join them... he'd missed them so much, for so long.

No! Don't believe any of it, it's another trick! Just like Malachor, just like Dathomir, just like Tatooine! You've been fooled before, and someone else paid the price every time!

But not this time. Not again.

"No," Ezra bit back, infusing all the anger he could into the glare he sent the old man. "This is a lie! They died, I felt it!"

"Ezra!" Ephraim Bridger, his father, called, emerging from somewhere beyond the door's threshold to stand beside Mira. "Where is that boy?"

"You know it is possible to change fate. There are infinite paths and infinite possibilities," the Emperor continued, "but you must open the door."

"Son? Are you coming?"

Memories from a past life rushed from oblivion, as Ezra stared at the life he once had. He remembered simply eating meals at the table, looking at the stars with his mother, playing with loth-cats with his father. But the memories were also faded; dulled to random images and the ghosts of emotions, and it was his fault. Nostalgia would've gotten him killed on the streets; in fact it almost had. It'd taken a long time for seven-year old Ezra Bridger to push down that foolish hope; the impulse to sit by his boarded-up house and wait for his parents to scoop him up and save him. But he'd forced himself to forget for so long that he didn't remember things like what his favorite food had once been. It hurt to remember just as much as it hurt to have forgotten.

"So few have a choice to live the life they want. Why deny yourself?" The Emperor said.

"Mom, Dad?" Ezra said tentatively, as if speaking too loudly would make them disappear.

Mira set down the plate she held. "Ezra?"

They are real.

The binders around Ezra's wrists suddenly released, falling quietly to the ground. He looked to the Emperor in surprise, following his outstretched hand to a small, rectangular indent set in the wall.

"There; the control for the gateway. Activate it, and you can be with your family again." The Emperor explained.

Ezra's gaze returned to the golden threshold leading to his childhood home. Mira and Ephraim had also turned their attention to the doorway, and looked to each other in confusion.

"What about my friends?" he asked.

"If you open the gateway, you will save your parents. They shall live."

But my friends? What will happen to them? If I change the past... I'll never meet the Ghost crew, or join the rebellion, or learn to be a Jedi. I'll never meet Kanan, or Sabine...

But they shall live...

His mother and father looked back at the door, and Ezra met their gaze. They both looked so longing- no. Not exactly longing, more sad. Pleading. Approaching the door, Mira put a hand on Ephraim's shoulder. They were right there; all he had to do was open the door. Kanan wouldn't be blinded, Ahsoka wouldn't have to go to Malachor, Master Kenobi would live in peace on Tatooine.

"Let go of everything you fear to lose." Yoda. Ezra could hear his voice, remembering his words at the Jedi Temple.

The control glowed a dull gold as Ezra's hand drew closer. He could feel its connection to the Force, the knowledge of power and the power of knowledge. Indeed, it was the World Between Worlds.

"I'm asking you to let go." Ahsoka.

"Go on," the Emperor said. "You deserve this."

"Let Go." Kanan.

Time seemed to stop, locking Ezra in place with his parents before him and fate in his hands. As the lesson said, he had to let go. Kanan had taught him that since the beginning; to forgive Tseebo, to reject the power and temptations of the dark side, to release his guilt from Malachor. To be willing to let go of the power, his attachments, and his very being. It was painful, especially with the two people he'd longed for all his life standing a few steps away, but part of him knew he would never truly lose them as long as he was Ezra Bridger. He had their legacy and their love, and his new family. He knew who he was, and nothing could change that.

"Mom? Dad?" Ezra called. Across time and space, his parents looked back with sadness in their eyes. "You'll always be a part of me..."

They smiled.

"But I have to let you go." A tear slid down Ezra's cheek as he closed his eyes...

"No!" cried the Emperor.

...and thrust his arms outwards, unleashing all of his might through the Force into the walls. Cracks spread along the walls, bleeding golden light. The deep rumbling of falling stone roared all around the Jedi as the doorway began to collapse. Mira and Ephraim faded away as the door closed, but their final words could still be heard over the thunderous cracking of stone.

"We love you Ezra."

Frantically, Ezra turned and ran down the hall. Bits of stone fell all around him, glancing off his jacket and somehow not tripping him. A mix of mortal terror, determination, and sheer freedom pushed him to run faster than he ever had in his life. Seeing his parents smile and hearing them say those four words had rekindled his dwindling spark of hope and chased away the doubts and whispers that had been plaguing him, and all that remained was the Force. Invigorated, Ezra only pushed himself to go faster.

The Emperor's hologram stood in his way, it's translucent blue face twisting from an expression of surprise to one of pure hatred. The cold feeling Ezra had felt grew a thousandfold, as the projection began to flicker between the 'Emperor' and the Emperor. The hunched, growling creature from the World Between Worlds. And honestly, Ezra wasn't even surprised.

Cracks broke through the walls of the entrance, as the Jedi ran right through the hologram. Just as the doorway collapsed in on itself, he leapt clear of the crumbling stone. The soil of the earthen mound dampened his fall (or rather, his headlong collision), overwhelming him with the smell of Lothal. But now wasn't the time to be distracted, there was still a planet to save. Tiredly, Ezra got up to a crouch and looked back at the doorway in search of any signs of activity. The doorway had been reduced to a massive pile of rubble in the middle of the room; there was no trace of the Emperor.

He's gotta be furious that I destroyed the door; he'll be back, Ezra thought. If there's one thing I know about the Sith, it's that they're stubbornly persistent.

Not a moment later, the Emperor's hologram emerged from the debris as it flickered between the two images, before settling on the true form; the Sith. Ezra could feel the anger radiating off him like a sandstorm, even through the projection. His body straining with fatigue, he got to his feet and glared back at the hooded Sith.

"You're wrong; I have a family. I don't need anything from you," he declared.

The Emperor regarded him with thinly veiled disdain from beneath his cowl, before replying, "Unfortunate."

The door sliding open behind Ezra almost gave him a heart attack. Three strange figures emerged from the door, with a squadron of Death troopers close behind. The three wore red armor over their whole bodies, and wielded metal staffs.

"Destroy him!" the Emperor ordered.

Quickly, Ezra ran at the troopers, dodging blaster bolts as the Force warned him. The Death troopers started to fan out, hoping to surround him, while the Red Guards twirled their staffs... for some reason. Ezra thrust his hands out, knocking all but one of the three Red Guards off their feet. They raised their staff at him, and suddenly Ezra was suspended eight feet off the ground. Burning tendrils of yellow energy expanded from the tip of the Red Guard's staff and enwreathed him in energy. The tendrils sent prickles of numb pain through his body; like frostbite, except also like burning alive. The two other guards got to their feet and turned their staffs upon him, while the Death troopers encircled him. His entire body felt numb; he tried to resist, but it felt as though he were fighting a mountain pressing against him on all sides.

The upside-down remains of the doorway came into view, giving the Jedi an idea. With all his strength, he reached his hand towards the broken heap of stones. The Red Guards must have noticed, as pain flared throughout his body. Desperately, he channeled the Force into the stones and pulled them towards him and the Imperials. The pain became excruciating, and suddenly Ezra was falling, and the last thing he saw before blacking out was a sea of tumbling stones.

_

Sabine knew what the creature was going to do before it happened. Ezra's lightsaber was already blocking low to intercept it's electrostaff as it swung at her legs. With a spin, the creature struck towards her temple, and she blocked that too. Growling in frustration, the creature threw a volley of quick strikes, but each was deflected. Swiftly, Sabine counterattacked with a series of slashes, driving the creature back. Across the gap, the rebels had finally managed to take one of the terminals, but both they and the Imperials were taking losses. They were running out of time too; frankly, Sabine was impressed that Ezra had managed to keep Thrawn occupied for so long.

The creature attacked, going for her head, then her hands, then her head again. Deftly, Sabine countered and parried with Ezra's lightsaber, sporadically throwing in a quick jab or side kick. But with every attack and counterattack, the more her muscles felt like they were liquefying, and the clearer it became that the creature had no plans of going down without a fight, and she didn't have enough time nor energy for that. Deactivating Ezra's lightsaber, she put more effort into avoidance and less into attacking, as if she were tiring. Which wasn't entirely false; every cell in her body felt fatigued from all the fighting and getting electrocuted, but she wasn't nearly beaten yet. The creature seemed to take the bait, and pressed its attack with ferocity. But when another strike feinted at her legs arced towards her ribs, she was ready. With one hand she grabbed the electrostaff just past where the shaft met the electrified tip, while she used the other to punch the creature squarely in it's jaw; stunning it long enough for her to wrench the staff from it's grasp.

Casting the electrostaff off the walkway, Sabine reactivated the lightsaber and leveled it's blade at the creature. Anger shone in the reflection of it's glassy white eyes.

"Are you going to kill me?" The creature asked in its deep, rumbling voice.

Her immediate thought was yes. While she hadn't killed Gar Saxon in their duel on Krownest, this was different. The creature was unarmed, defeated, and running out of allies; but if she let it live, it'd more than likely try to kill them. And also, the memory of it repeatedly electrocuting her was very fresh.

"Can't exactly let you live, can I?" Sabine replied impassively.

"The Grand Admiral was right."

"And how so?"

"Your sense of honor and morality override strategically sound reasoning. You're incapable of doing what has to be done."

With sudden speed, the creature lunged low, batting away the hand that held Ezra's lightsaber. Panic caused Sabine to stumble back, but instinct made her brace herself in a strong stance and raise the opposite arm at the creature. The concussive blast shook her whole upper body, but sent the creature careening off the edge of the walkway. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Mandalorian lowered her arm and returned Ezra's lightsaber to her belt.

"Ketsu, Rex," she spoke into her helmet comm, "what's your status?"

"The generators are coming online now," Rex responded.

Beneath the walkways, arcs of red energy zigzagged through the ring of energy pylons. The low hum of electronics crescendoed, as the shield generator came to life.

"The shield is holding, but you all cut it awfully close down there," Ryder chimed in.

"Is the city safe?" Sabine asked.

"About as safe as a suborbital bombardment target can get, yeah."

We did it.

The Mandalorian took a moment to catch her breath, allowing herself a moment of rest knowing that Lothal was safe for the time being. She'd been putting off her emotions for the sake of focusing on the mission, and they still weren't done yet, but right then Sabine just let herself think as she followed the walkway to join the others. Firstly, she was exhausted; so exhausted. It felt as if inertia alone was keeping her on her feet. In wake of the creatures little death device, her whole body still felt both overstimulated and absolutely drained. And despite her warrior heritage and exceptional combat training, the fighting she'd done throughout the day had certainly taken its toll. Was she beaten? Hell no. But she was tired, and she already missed her blaster pistols.

She was also hopeful. They'd made the impossible possible, as always, and Lothal was safe for now. Once Thrawn was out of the way, Hera would pick them up in the Ghost, and then Sabine would get to do what she enjoyed most: blow things up. There was still fighting to do, but despite her fatigue, she felt ready for it.

It was a challenge to maintain that hope as she approached the rebels.

Melch and Hondo's bodies still lay on the bridge as Sabine walked by. Even though she'd been... less than acquaintances with the two, it was saddening to lose them. Rex knelt over the body of Gregor, his expression hidden from view. Every glance, every broken expression worn by her comrades, seemed to add another block of duracrete to Sabine's boots, until she finally stumbled to a stop upon seeing Ketsu's limp form propped against a console.

Not Ketsu too...

"She's alive," Wolffe said quietly, "just wounded." Unlike Rex, his grief and pain was very, very clearly displayed on his face.

"O-oh, good," Sabine stuttered. Her falling out with Ketsu was one of several regrets the Mandalorian had, and it was something they'd both done their best to repair since reuniting on Garel. Though she'd acted as cool as always, she'd been overjoyed when her old friend had left Black Sun to join (or unofficially affiliate with) the Rebellion. Losing her would've been... well, Sabine already knew how it would have been because, in the split second before Wolffe had spoke, she'd felt heartbroken.

Once more, she wondered how Ezra was doing. He probably hadn't died yet, or else Thrawn would've bombarded the city long ago, but alive rarely meant unharmed when it came to the Empire. And if casualty rates down here, along with past encounters with the Grand Admiral were any indication of Thrawn's ruthlessness...

Ezra will be okay. And if he needs help, we'll rescue him.

"Okay, you all need to come back to the Command Center right now!" Ryder said urgently. Chopper could be heard panicking n the background.

"What's going on up there!?" Sabine asked.

"I... don't know. The Imperial's have stopped their bombardment, but we're picking up distress signals from the blockade. Just get up here ASAP!" Ryder replied.

Distress signals?

"Got it. Let's move out," Wolffe replied, taking Ketsu gently in his arms. Rex got up and started down the walkway towards the exit.

Glancing between him and Gregor's body, Sabine started, "Should we take Gr-"

"There's no time. The dro- the Imperials are headed our way; we'll only be slowed down." Rex's voice was tactical and cold, devoid of infliction or emotion.

Sabine grimaced. The clone wasn't wrong, but that didn't make it much easier to accept that they were leaving the others behind. Traditionally, Mandalorians honored those who had fallen in battle with a burial at the absolute least; but then again, the Empire did not share Mandalore's concepts of honor. With Ezra's lightsaber held at the ready, she followed the two clones back to the Command Center.


End file.
